


I Hate Everything About You

by BuddhaForMary



Series: A Song For You [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Fighting, M/M, Makeup, Violence, argument
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2013-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-23 11:23:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/621587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuddhaForMary/pseuds/BuddhaForMary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred and Ivan hate each other, but can't seem to break up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Hate Everything About You

Alfred and Ivan had always had a strange kind of relationship. One second, they'd be cuddling on the couch and the next, they'd be screaming at each other about something. However, Ivan had gone out of his way this time to piss off Alfred. He'd deliberately set fire to the American flag that had adorned their rom for so long, and he had left it on Alfred's side of the bed. When Alfred came home from work and gave Ivan a kiss on the cheek, Ivan couldn't help the cheeky smile that had spread across his face. Alfred had asked what was so funny, with that sweet naivity that Ivan loved so much, and Ivan had responded with a simple response of "Nothing." Alfred had shrugged and gone up into their room to put his briefcase back in the closet, so Ivan sat there waiting for the response he wished for. It came a couple of minutes later- a wild, pained shriek. The Russian man heard the swift feet coming down the stairs, and just moments after, Alfred was waving the flag in his face.

"Did you fucking do this Ivan? Really? You sick fucking bastard! You don't just burn my shit! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Alfred's voice rose higher and his insults grew more intense. However, Ivan was completely unfazed, and if anything, was a little amused. He watched as the American's face grew redder and redder by the second, and he fought the urge to laugh when Alfred spat out the words "It's not my fault you're a fucking wacked out Commie!" Alfred was trying way too hard to piss Ivan off, and he found it amusing. Alfred looked directly in the eyes of the man he'd come to hate almost as strongly as he loved him. Cold, calculating violet eyes and a Cheshire grin to fool even the most intelligent of people shined back at him, full of a sort of darkness. Alfred came to know and adore this darkness, yet abhor it with all of his heart at the same time. It all depended upon when the darkness came out. As of now, Alfred hated Ivan's dark side. He paused his tirade as an idea popped into his mind.

"Are you done being a little bitch?" Ivan's voice dripped in amusement.

"Yeah. Let me just... Let me go to the kitchen. I need a drink..."

Alfred dropped the ruined flag onto the ground and turned to walk into the kitchen. He shut the door behind him swiftly and snuck to the alcohol cabinet. He opened it and found exactly what he'd hoped for: Three huge, expensive bottles of Russian vodka. Ivan had said something about it being sent from his sister when she visited St. Petersburg last month. None of the bottles had been touched. Not wasting a moment, Alfred popped open one of the bottles and proceeded to dump its contents into the sink. He let out a chuckle of petty satisfaction as it emptied completely. He was just about to open the second bottle when Ivan bursted into the kitchen.

"I was thinking I could share some of that with... ALFRED WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?"

Ivan's eyes widened with horror as he realized what Alfred was doing, or at least, had been planning on doing. The horror snapped to anger when he saw the satisfied smirk on Alfred's face. 

"You... BASTARD!"

In moments, Alfred was shoved against the nearest kitchen wall, Ivan's hand clasping around his neck. Ivan began screaming at him in Russian, his first language, and that's when Alfred knew he'd gone too far. He'd only heard stories about his thing with vodka from his sisters, never truly believing them. 

Ivan started yelling in English then, voice louder than an avalanche. "You think you can fuck with my vodka, you fucking capitalist piece of shit? Let alone a fucking present from my sister? She spent a shitload of money for that shit and you fucking wasted it, you stupid fucking bitch!"

Ivan stopped yelling and let his hand strike Alfred across the face. Alfred recoiled from the blow and gritted his teeth. He lifted up his hands and pried at Ivan's grasp around his throat until he finally got out. When his feet hit the ground, Alfred landed a solid blow onto Ivan's nose. He didn't hear a crunch, but it caused Ivan to stumble back and cry out. Ivan noticed a river of crimson flow through the cracks of the Russian's hands and onto the floor. He felt a small pang of remorse, far, far back in his mind. He pushed that back, however, and charged Ivan. He couldn't exactly get Ivan onto the ground, but Alfred did his best to pummel the shit out of Ivan, letting free all of his anger. Ivan didn't just stand there and take it; he got in quite a few good hits himself. One actually shattered the left lens of Alfred's glasses. 

After his glasses broke, Alfred stopped hitting Ivan, picked them up off the floor and backed out of the kitchen. "Fuck you, man. Fuck you."

Ivan watched as he turned and slammed the door behind him. He was trying to catch his breath from the ordeal. He was still incredibly angry with Alfred, though he did feel bad for breaking his partner's glasses. He listened intently as a door upstairs slammed, and he held back a smirk. It was a little funny how easily ticked off Alfred was, and how he acted very much like a pissy teenage girl. 

Ivan quickly put away the vodka and threw away the now empty bottle. He left the kitchen and went to the bathroom to clean himself up.

~~~~

Alfred was in the upstairs bathroom, surveying his face. His lower lip was cracked open, badly. He had a scrape across his cheek from god knows what, and his neck was starting to bruise a bit from where Ivan had held him up. He seethed as he cleaned the scrape and his lip. He then picked up his glasses. The left lens was on the verge of falling out, and looked like a spiderweb was laced through it. He let out an exasperated sigh and screamed, "Fuck!"

Alfred punched the medicine cabinet until his knuckles began to bleed. He looked down at them and laughed humorlessly. "Fucking asshole. Hope he likes what he made me do."

Alfred then launched into a monologue, thinking aloud to himself. "Why do you put up with this, Alfred? He's a sick, abusive son of a bitch with no sense of right or wrong. He makes you angry beyond belief. He breaks your shit, hurts your feelings and laughs as he does."

"But he's capable of being incredibly sweet. He has feelings, too. Did you see the look on his face when you poured that vodka down the sink? He looked like he was about to cry."

"That may very well be, but he burned your flag. And look at your face! You're busted up."

"Not as busted up as him."

"So you like hurting each other, then?"

"That's the only sensible conclusion to be reached, me."

"I tried. Oh well. Go ahead and suffer."

Ivan had been standing at the door, listening to Alfred arguing with himself. He decided against going in there and left the room once more. He went into the upstairs guest room and locked the door behind him. He laid in the bed and let himself go. Ivan never cried in front of people, and he almost never cried. But every single fight that he had with Alfred made him sob like a child. He knew it was his fault, he knew he was the one to blame for Alfred's misery. Though Alfred had insisted to himself a few minutes before that they liked hurting each other, Ivan knew that he was hurting deep down and didn't like it. Ivan's sobs became louder with that thought, so he muffled his cries in the pillow. He didn't want Alfred to see or hear him like this, since it would not help. But Alfred, being the idiot that he was, entered the room anyway and tapped Ivan on the shoulder. Ivan jumped at his touch and looked up. 

"Go away! I don't want you to see me like this!"

Alfred sat down on the bed beside Ivan and sighed. "I'm not leaving. I can't. You're in pain, Ivan."

"So are you! Go take care of yourself, da? Don't worry about me!"

Ivan had forced his face back into the pillow, still shaking with loud, pained sobs. Alfred exhaled deeply and patted Ivan's back.

"Ivan, please stop crying. Look at me."

Ivan shook his head vehemently.

"Ivan, please."

Ivan reluctantly lifted his head up to look at Alfred. He stopped his sniffling and responded huskily. "What?"

"It's going to be okay."

"You say that every time, Alfred. Every single time." Ivan's violet eyes were drained of any hint of happiness they might have had earlier.

"Well... This time..." Alfred paused. "We have to try... Together."

Ivan shook his head. "I can't change, Alfred."

"Yes you can, Ivan. I believe in you."

Ivan rolled his eyes. "You shouldn't."

Alfred took Ivan's face into his hands. "You have to believe in yourself, Ivan. Please. For me."

"I..." Ivan swallowed. "Okay, I'll try."

"You promise?" Alfred asked, skepticism lightly coloring his voice.

"...You have my word."

Ivan leaned forward and gave Alfred a sweet, short kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song I Hate Everything About You by Three Days Grace.


End file.
